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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26594668">southern nights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunneltag879/pseuds/dunneltag879'>dunneltag879</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics), Red Robin - Fandom, Superboy - Fandom, Young Justice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Kon is alive, M/M, Poor Tim Drake, TW: Suicide, Tim drake is grieving, Tim is disassociating, Tim is in denial</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:55:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26594668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunneltag879/pseuds/dunneltag879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an act to escape his grief, Tim Drake finds himself at the one place furthest away from home he could think of: Kansas.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>southern nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim was driving. Driving far away. Where was he going? Even he didn’t know that. Just, far away from Gotham, far away from California, far away from Paris, far away from from his family, from his friends, and most importantly far away from all the graves he seems to be collecting. </p><p>He halted the car eventually, he even climbed out of the drivers seat and took a look around. All around him he saw not much other than the open and empty dirt road—surrounded by fields of wheat. After all the stops, all the gas, all the hours of driving, all the lack of sleep and refusal to eat, he found himself here: in Kansas. </p><p>It was July. It was July and Timothy Drake had stolen his dad’s old mustang, drove hours upon hours, only stopping for gas because he felt he had somewhere he needed to go. It was July and Timothy Drake disassociated his whole drive and ended up in Kansas. It was July and Timothy drake was in Kansas. </p><p>Soon, he could only find himself running through those fields of wheat, wanting something else, anything else. He wanted to disappear right then and there, in that field of soft, golden wheat. He hoped the ground would open up and the earth would consume him whole. </p><p>So against the dirt he laid, staring up at the stars, a sense of nostalgia or deja vu hitting him in an instant. Because back then, there was always a shadow following him, an obnoxious, stupid, charming, handsome, comforting shadow. That shadow was long gone, emptiness only filling up that old void. And much like Peter Pan, Tim lost his shadow, only unlike Peter’s there was no finding it. </p><p>“Fuck. What am I doing here?” He pondered, standing up slowly in the moonlight. Unfortunately, the ground had not swallowed Tim the way he hoped, instead,  Tim found himself heading back to the car, dirt on his knees and wheat in his hair. The soft sound of music growing as he walked closer. </p><p>southern nights<br/>
have you ever felt a southern night?<br/>
free as a breeze<br/>
not to mention the trees<br/>
whistlin’ tunes that you know and love so</p><p>A deep voice sung along with the lyrics, and upon approaching the road, Tim became face to face with him. </p><p>“Remember that one summer when you stayed over at the farm a few years back? Remember we went way out into the field because we couldn’t sleep, we took pa’s old radio and cranked it up to just the right volume for dancing. Remember how idiotic we were when this song came on? Well, even though we were just messing around while we danced to it, that was actually the moment I fell for you,” Conner smiled warmly. He sat on the hood of the red mustang, his head bouncing as he hummed along to the song. </p><p>Tim took a breath, he shuttered in the cold, walking back to the drivers side. Kon el, Conner Kent, the Superboy just admitted his love to him and yet, his presence made his blood boil. “I don’t know what sick fuck set you up to this but you need to leave,” Tim growled, a clear sob being pushed down as he spoke.<br/>
He couldn’t look at him, not now. Not after all the happened. “I know you’re not fucking real I’m just hallucinating or something,” He assured himself, giving a nod. </p><p>“What are you talking about? I’ve been following you for miles, Tim, hours. You just randomly left everyone without telling anyone where you were going, without saying goodbye..” Conner floated into the passengers seat, looking hurt by Tim’s words. “Why here? Why are you in Kansas,  bud? Everyone was so worried, we thought Ra’s took you, or maybe worse.” </p><p>They sat in silence for several moments before Tim started up the car again, and in enough time his foot was on the gas and they were zipping down the dirt road, crisp wind in their hair. “I’m fine, and Ra’s isn’t here.” </p><p> </p><p>southern skies<br/>
have you ever noticed southern skies?<br/>
it’s precious beauty lies just beyond the eye</p><p>“Why are you still here?” Tim called to his passenger over the loud radio, he didn’t even look at him, he could feel himself dissociating again, “I said, why the fuck are you here Conner?” </p><p>“I told you, you just left everyone, out of nowhere-“</p><p>“No!” The car picked up speed, and now Tim found himself face to face with the Kryptonian. “You’re supposed to be dead! You died!” </p><p>old man<br/>
he and his dog, they walk the old land<br/>
every flower touched his cold hand<br/>
as he slowly walked by<br/>
weeping’ willow would cry for joy, joy</p><p>“No I’m not, Tim remember Paris? Remember when you hugged me the time after that? How you said you were sure now? You knew that I was alive, I’ve been alive, I am alive!” Conner looked at him as if he were crazy. “Tim what’s going on? You took out your fucking tracker? I mean how did you even do that? Why? I just- I don’t understand.” </p><p>Tim couldn’t hear him though, he’d fell back down the rabbit hole of disassociation, much like the way he ended up here, only who knows where he’d make it this time, or if he’d even make it, period. </p><p>He could still feel the warmth in his heart from those nights, the times he was told Conner was indeed alive, the times he actually touched him, and yet he still insisted this was not happening. Going further back now, he could recall the moments of peace he felt when they danced that summer. They danced in the fields outside the Kent farm, an old radio blasting old songs for the two young friends. They danced like idiots, but Tim didn’t feel like an idiot. He felt at peace, he felt comfortable, he felt loved. They were young, naive, and he supposed in love as well. </p><p>Now, life was confusing. He was torn between his talks with his therapist, about him seeing things, hearing things, things that weren’t actually there, and just wanting to jump into Conner’s arms and cry on his shoulder. He knew he wasn’t real, after all this time he wasn’t just suddenly back. </p><p>“God. Fuck you Conner Kent. Can’t you see I’m grieving?” Tim shot him a glare, Conner returned a frown, he looked heartbroken. Part of Tim wanted to just reach out for him, he wanted to just give in so badly...he wanted to feel that warmth again.</p><p>mystery<br/>
like this and many others in the trees<br/>
blow in the night<br/>
in the southern skies</p><p>Conner put a hand on the back of Tim’s neck, dragging his thumb along the tips of his overgrown hair. The car sped up.</p><p>Tim couldn’t control himself anymore, he turned to Conner, hungrily grabbing his jaw as he pulled him close to kiss him. Conner ran his fingers through Tim’s hair, kissing him back just as eagerly. The two intertwined, grasping at one another like it was the end of the world—like if they let go they’d die. </p><p>southern nights,<br/>
they feel so good, it’s a frightening<br/>
wish I could<br/>
stop this world from fighting</p><p>Tim broke the kiss momentarily, catching his breath before he was pulled back in by his chin, the angle this time different than before. Now Tim had his fingers twisting through Conner’s hair, his other hand playing absent mindlessly with Conner’s T-shirt. </p><p>When he pulled away a second time, he felt a firm hand on his waist, he cradled Conner’s face in his hands, looking at him in the eye with tears as he whispered one soft “I’m so sorry”</p><p>Then they crashed. </p><p>And Tim went limp in Conner’s arms. </p><p>southern skies<br/>
have you ever noticed?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading!! This fic isn’t the best because it was sort up a pop-up idea for me that I mostly scribbled down. Still, I hope you enjoyed it!! </p><p> </p><p>Tumblr: @Klariwitch</p></blockquote></div></div>
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